Chapter 121

The Jiangnan Phenomenon! Book Signing Event Ignites the Market!

The Jiangnan Storm Sweeps the Nation! Young King Zhou Yi's MV Promotes His Hometown!

Young and Talented! Young King Zhou Yi Signs Another Major Endorsement!

…

After all eight book signing events in the capital ended, under Anta's high-profile official announcement, Zhou Yi once again made headlines—having earned another 9 million.

This time, however, he appeared unusually on the financial section.

"Since his debut in the second half of 2000, Zhou Yi, despite his phenomenon-level popularity and performance, has secured relatively few endorsements; only Coca-Cola and Anta have been officially confirmed. Yet his endorsement fees have reached superstar levels.

"He is the first mainland singer to receive a ten-million-yuan endorsement fee from Coca-Cola, far outpacing his contemporaries and approaching the earnings of the previous generation of Hong Kong and Taiwan stars.

"To date, his two albums combined have sold nearly three million legitimate copies.

"Adding the ten-million-yuan Coca-Cola fee and the nine-million-yuan Anta fee, this nineteen-year-old boy may cross the 20-million-yuan after-tax income threshold by year-end, becoming the highest-earning young artist in mainland history…"

On June 22, the business and financial newspaper 21st Century Business Herald, overseen by the Southern Finance Media Group, unusually published an article detailing Zhou Yi's terrifying earning power—

The accompanying images showed his two albums and the official launch events for his Coca-Cola and Anta endorsements.

For contrast, the article meticulously listed the incomes of Chen Daoming, Zhang Guoli, Wang Gang, Liu Huan, Mao Amin, and even Mao Ning and Yang Yuying—two standout young mainland singers of the previous generation.

This analytical report, upon release, was like a depth charge thrown into the mainland entertainment industry, already lagging behind Hong Kong and Taiwan—its splash was enormous.

In an era where only a handful like Chen Daoming could command a 150,000-yuan per-episode fee, Zhou Yi's income—if true—placed him at the absolute pinnacle of mainland entertainment earnings.

And considering this income was what Zhou Yi took home after splitting with Warner, the amount he earned alone might exceed what some mainland film studios made from producing an entire movie.

That was terrifying.

Film studios had dozens of employees to pay—salaries, bonuses—while Zhou Yi, alone, handled every aspect of his album himself. Add two major endorsements, and after Warner's cut and taxes, every cent was his.

It was hard to evaluate.

"I used to just see Hong Kong and Taiwan singers making big money and never imagined how much they could actually earn. Now, suddenly, a mainland singer has emerged whose album sells this well—I can't help wondering…

"Damn, how rich were those top Hong Kong and Taiwan singers back then?!"

Huang Bo, tossing down his newspaper while drinking with his childhood friend to relieve boredom, muttered curses.

Across from him, Gao Hu sipped liquor with peanuts, and upon hearing this, his gaze drifted to the newspaper beside his friend. He sighed: "The key is, even if we wanted to earn this money, we couldn't. The gap between people is truly greater than the gap between humans and dogs."

In an era when physical albums were still the norm, selling records was real skill—sell well, you're awesome; sell poorly, no matter how much you brag, you lose money.

Huang Bo and Gao Hu had both once been bar singers—Huang Bo earned a hundred yuan per show, Gao Hu earned dozens. Forget Zhou Yi at the pyramid's peak—Gao Hu couldn't even outearn his own childhood friend.

Huang Bo, who had once formed a band, understood the cruelty of the music industry all too well. Looking at the triumphant Zhou Yi in the newspaper, he felt envy.

He never dared dream such a thing at night—yet in reality, Zhou Yi had truly achieved it.

"I think you should give up singing for now and apply to a film and television academy. This industry is too deep—record labels fought like dogs in the mainland, yet Zhou Yi released one new album and even Yu Quan under Rock Records got wiped out."

Gao Hu, believing his friend still had talent in performance, advised him.

Look at the mainland-only China Pop Music Chart: yesterday, Yu Quan's "Cold to the Core" was at number ten; today, it dropped to fifteen.

A female singer named Han Hong, however, with her songs "That Sea," "Daybreak," and "Tibetan Plateau," had been building momentum and, over a month after releasing her second album "Awake," steadily began challenging Zhou Yi's dominance.

Though her album sales couldn't match his, these three songs were the only ones on the mainland to maintain upward momentum in radio play and KTV requests despite Zhou Yi's overwhelming pressure.

Han Hong's fame surged accordingly—after all, she was the only female singer who could stand firm under Zhou Yi's demonic pressure. That was real credibility!

In fact, Warner, expecting to rest easy on the mainland, had initially ignored Han Hong, whose songs ranked outside the top twenty.

But when her three songs, after climbing for over a month, finally broke through thanks to their exceptional quality and widespread popularity, and on June 23 entered the top ten—breaking Zhou Yi's one-day chart monopoly—Zhou Jianhui was stunned.

His publicity campaign boasting he alone held the top eleven spots hadn't even launched yet, and Zhou Yi's chart dominance was already gone?

Zhou Jianhui immediately obtained Han Hong's album "Awake." Upon seeing the credits—"Han Hong: lyrics, composition, vocals"—he fell silent.

Who the hell is this Han Hong?

Except for her cover of "Tibetan Plateau," every other song on this album was written and composed by Han Hong herself—including the classic hits "That Sea" and "Daybreak."

Zhou Jianhui was stunned.

In Taiwan, boosted by the ongoing broadcast of Meteor Garden, Zhou Yi's "Jiangnan" could no longer hold the number one spot consistently—it routinely swapped positions with Dai Peini, 庾澄慶, and F4.

Especially Dai Peini.

This Malaysian prodigy had recently gained another marketing angle: like Zhou Yi, she handled every aspect of her album herself—lyrics, composition, arrangement.

Riding the Meteor Garden wave, EMI pushed Dai Peini as Zhou Yi's counterpart, lifting her album sales by an entire order of magnitude.

In Hong Kong, besides the already dominant Xie Tingfeng, two more artists emerged with the same slow-burn momentum as Han Hong—Chen Yi Xun and Chen Xiaochun.

And one returning king: Wang Jie.

Chen Yi Xun, singing "Bicycle," had, through nearly three months of accumulation, secured a place on the Hong Kong charts—not wiped out by Zhou Yi.

Wang Jie, singing "Unromantic Accusation," had previously clashed with Zhou Yi's ad song "Sad People Don't Listen to Slow Songs." Now, with time passing, he was showing signs of returning to his peak. Even after being pushed down, he still kept a watchful eye on Zhou Yi's "Jiangnan."

What Warner least expected was Chen Xiaochun.

His previous albums had poor sales. Following the principle of a final, amicable farewell, he released his last album under his BMG contract—"Give Me a Hug."

On this album was a song now serving as the main force battling Zhou Yi across Hong Kong's charts and even mainland unrestricted rankings—"The Person I Love."

Lyrics by Shi Rencheng, composition by Jay Chou, arrangement by Wu Qinglong.

"Apart from 'Jiangnan,' your other songs aren't stable. In Taiwan, you can't even hold 'Jiangnan' steady."

Qian Jiang analyzed the situation for Zhou Yi: "On the mainland, Han Hong's 'That Sea,' 'Daybreak,' and 'Tibetan Plateau' are surging strongly and may threaten your short-term rankings, thereby affecting your album sales.

"You must increase your promotional exposure. Taiwan is beyond reach—only legal action can help.

"In Hong Kong, you still have XIA Yaxuan's concert to appear at and ride the momentum.

"As for the mainland, a highly rated variety show has approached you—would you be interested in participating?"

Knowing Zhou Yi's usual indifference toward variety shows, Qian Jiang suggested: "I think you should join. After all, the mainland is your largest base—you need to use mainland variety shows to let more viewers know you and promote your album.

"That way, when combined with your nationwide book signings, the momentum will be even stronger."

"A mainland variety show approached me? What show?"

Seeing the familiar song titles one after another on the data sheet, Zhou Yi, who had fallen into memories, came to his senses and looked at the manager in confusion.

"Happy Camp, Hunan TV."

PS: Still working overtime on engineering files; the second chapter today will be delayed by half an hour, released around ten o'clock.

It's just off the charts, I can only say.

I originally thought I could finish it yesterday.

Fortunately, I boldly tore off two days of leave; yesterday and today count as my workdays, not my rest days.

(End of this chapter)